Counting Candles
by xox Moony xox
Summary: In an attempt to cheer Maxxie up, Rupert decides to throw him a birthday party. Although this leads to a unplanned trip back home and an encounter with someone Maxxie was sure was out of his life for good. Sequel to When the Stage Lights Go Down.
1. Another Year Older

**Rating: **PG-13.

**Prompt: **091. Birthday.

**Disclaimer: **The show's not mine. Sadly I wasn't clever enough to think of it first.

**Summary: **In an impromptu bid to cheer Maxxie up and get him out of his slump, Rupert decides to throw him a birthday party. A mistake, as this shortly leads to an unexpected trip back home and an encounter with someone Maxxie was sure was out of his life for good.

**Another Year Older**

For twenty minutes, Maxxie had been sat in the front window, his chin resting in his hands as he watched snowflakes flutter down past the stained glass. He wasn't entirely sure how long it had been snowing for, although the street outside now lay beneath a dusting of icing sugar white and the houses opposite looked like they'd been plucked straight out of a Christmas card, strings of multicoloured fairy lights wrapped around the wrought iron gates and the first signs of snow banks building at the bottom of the steps.

Six months ago, just two months after Rupert had landed his dream job and taken over as the head chef at Rules in Covent Garden, they'd moved to a 2-bed house in Notting Hill. Maxxie still wasn't sure whether he liked living there or not, half of the time he felt like he'd been trapped inside a scene from _Love Actually_, especially at this time of year.

He couldn't help but miss the flat in Battersea. They'd been there for almost four years after all, he'd become emotionally attached to the place.

The house, of course, practically mirrored the old flat. With two beaten up leather couches in the living room, terracotta throws tossed over them in what was supposed to seem a casual fashion and Rupert's array of trinkets he'd purchased from holidays in Morocco scattered over the mantelpiece, if felt exactly the same. Naturally the kitchen was the room Rupert spent most of his time in when he was home, pawing over recipe books and cutting fresh herbs from the pots on the windowsill, spreading himself out across the island.

Contrary to what his friends (and boyfriend) said though, the past year had been pretty damned rubbish, in Maxxie's opinion at least.

Not long after Rupert received his promotion, Maxxie had broken his ankle in a show, taken a tumble during a routine and been put out of commission for almost four months. It had been the worst four months of his life, and moving in the middle of it hadn't helped, so now, in an annoyingly sickly sweet kind of way, Rupert had been on a mission to cheer him up by any means possible.

Not that it would help, Maxxie had received one last blow a couple of weeks ago, his physiotherapist telling him there would be no way on earth he'd be able to tap dance again without risking further damage to his ankle.

Unashamedly, he'd cried himself to sleep that night…

Rupert's latest idea was a party (well, more of a gathering if Rupert was organising it, he didn't have a clue how to throw a party) for Maxxie's 24th birthday, to be held that night at the house. So naturally, Maxxie had spent the afternoon avoiding his boyfriend, who was busy in the kitchen and listening, incessantly, to old Spice Girls songs. All in all, it had been pretty easy really, occupying himself with stringing up recently received Christmas cards, finishing off the decorations, and then spending a good hour attempting (in vain) to light a fire in the grate. He wasn't exactly practised at it.

Upon finishing with that, watching the snow had been a welcome distraction, up until now at least. But it was time for that to come to an end, he had just spotted Emma's car turn into the street and several moments later, she'd pulled up outside and he could see Luke waving from the backseat.

Moving out of the window with a soft sigh, Maxxie made his way to the front door, opening it just in time to see a heavily pregnant Emma trip over her own feet and stumble up the front steps. 'I'm fine!' she declared before he even got around to asking, waving a hand idly in front of her as if to shoo him away. 'You go back inside, Max.'

Emma had been behaving that way for over a month now. All Rob's fault of course, he got overprotective when she was pregnant, he'd been exactly the same when she'd been expecting Luke. So now, each and every time, she felt the need to announce her ability to take care of herself even when it wasn't necessary.

Spotting the cake tin in her hands, Maxxie took a step forward and began to ask, 'Do you want me to-'

'No!' Emma's shout echoed down the street and he stopped dead in his tracks, his arms falling down limply by his sides.

The cry seized Rob's attention rather abruptly and he looked up from the snowball fight Luke had instigated with him, making a move towards the steps. Luke, it seemed, had other ideas, and took his dad's distraction as the perfect excuse to run up and shove a handful of snow into his face.

He smiled mischievously and then came gambolling past them both, arms outstretched, shrieking, 'Uncle Maxxie!'

Maxxie laughed and then scooped the 4-year-old up in his arms, responding with a grin, 'Hello, monster, what are you doing here?'

'Sorry, Max,' it was Emma who spoke, reaching the doorstep at last and looking apologetic. 'Mum couldn't have him tonight, so I had to bring him along with us. I'll put him to bed in an hour or so though and then he'll be out of our way.' She reached a hand out, playfully ruffling Luke's hair and he scowled at her, the perfect mirror image of his father.

By the time Rob joined them in the doorway, he had succeeded in getting the cake tin off Emma, as well as several brightly coloured gift bags and he followed everyone back into the house.

A brief kerfuffle took place, coats, hats and scarves being removed and tossed around the hallway, Luke generally causing havoc before finally announcing he needed the toilet. Rob took him upstairs without objection, leaving Maxxie and Emma in the hall, and she took a step closer to him, placing a soft kiss to his cheek, murmuring, 'Happy birthday, Max.'

'Thank you,' his reply was gentle as he hung up her coat on the rack, and then led her into the living room.

'God, I need to sit down, my feet are killing me,' she said, lowering herself into the nearest armchair with a heavy sigh. A second later she spotted a bowl of Quality Street on the coffee table and leant forward to pluck out several orange creams. 'Today's been manic; we went Christmas shopping on Oxford Street. I told Rob we should have just stayed here to do it, but no, he wanted to get something for his mum from Selfridges.' She shook her head. 'Bloody woman, she better appreciate it.'

Maxxie perched on the arm of the couch nearest to her and offered a sympathetic smile. 'Finished now though?' he asked, reaching for a chocolate himself and unwrapping it.

'Thank God,' replied Emma, rolling her eyes. 'Sometimes I think that husband of mine forgets I'm _eight months pregnant_!'

Her final words were more pronounced as if she wanted Rob to overhear them and, sure enough, a moment later he poked his head around the door, a slight frown on his face and asked, 'Did you shout me?'

'No, dear...' She beamed at him.

He shrugged, disappearing back upstairs, and Maxxie had to stifle a laugh when Emma stuck her tongue out at his retreating form.

A minute later, the childish banter was forced to come to an end and Rupert joined them in the room, placing a tray of glasses down on the coffee table. He made a killer mulled wine, using homemade wine of course; something Maxxie had discovered a few years back. The trouble was the number of glasses on the tray and that unnerved Maxxie somewhat. He cast a sidelong glance to his boyfriend. 'Rupe, who did you invite tonight?' he asked.

Taking a seat on the couch, Rupert returned his gaze with a frown, picking up a glass. 'A couple of guys from the company, few of your friends from back home.' He paused and took a sip of his wine. 'Why? What's the problem?'

'Nothing,' he responded with a shake of his head, expression turning sullen. He could feel Emma's eyes on him, but ignored it and reached forwards for a drink, sinking down onto the couch beside Rupert instead and leaning into him.

Rob and Luke joined them in the room several minutes later, Luke jumping up onto his mum's chair straight away and curling around her, his head dropping down onto Emma's shoulder. She simply smiled, stroking his hair and laying a kiss to his forehead. 'Sleepy yet, baby?' she murmured.

It was a stupid question; they all knew Luke wouldn't be going to sleep anytime soon, especially with so much going on. So Rob ploughed on regardless and handed over the gift bags to Maxxie. Apparently he'd already discarded of the cake in the kitchen somewhere.

'Oooh presents!' Luke's curiosity was peaked again and he sat up, bright and alert, watching.

Maxxie cast him a sidelong glance and then smiled, quickly patting the empty space beside him. That was all in took, within seconds Luke had joined him on the couch to help him open up the brightly wrapped parcels, tossing pieces of ribbon across the living room in feverish excitement. The five of them were more like a family than Maxxie ever thought they could be. In fact, he probably spent too much time with his surrogate family these days than he should have, ignoring his real one. He rarely went home; he had no reason to anymore.

When the presents were done with, the group fell into comfortable silence and it wasn't long before Luke dozed off sprawled across Rupert's legs. Rob whisked him off to bed quickly, not giving him chance to stir again, tucking him up in the guest room with his trusty Action Man in his arms.

Shortly afterwards, the drinks began to flow and Maxxie found himself halfway to a drunken stupor when Emma pointed to the window, her eyebrows lifting.

'Who's that?' she questioned curiously.

He sat bolt upright, gaze moving immediately to the path outside and the silhouette of someone hovering at the bottom of the steps – a someone who was looking a little lost. He'd know that face anywhere.

Jumping up from his comfortable spot on the couch, Maxxie raced into the hall and threw open the front door, startling the figure stood only a few feet from him. 'Chelle?' he asked, the surprise apparent in his tone.

'Max!' Michelle beamed, facing him now and then raced up the steps, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug. 'I wasn't sure if this was the right house or not, my taxi driver barely spoke English and I didn't have a clue where I was going,' she babbled on, pulling back from the hug slightly. 'Nightmare.'

She laughed and he couldn't help but pull her close again, enjoying the familiarity of having her there.

It took five minutes to get back inside the house again and by that time, the shoulders of Michelle's coat were dusted with a fresh sprinkling of snow. He took it from her, along with her hat and scarf and then showed her into the living room. There wasn't any introducing that needed to be done, they had all met before, quite a few times actually. Catching up though, there was plenty.

Michelle had moved to the South of France 18 months ago for work, met some guy there and then refused to move back home again, setting up house and playing happy families instead. She often came back to visit though, spending a week or so in Bristol with her mum and latest stepfather (a business tycoon by the name of Carl Davis), and getting round to seeing her friends whenever she could.

Before moving away, Michelle had spent a good year in London training and Maxxie had seen an awful lot of her. You could almost say they'd been close. It was probably the most unlikely friendship he'd ever had or expected. She was also the only one who would ever talk to him about Tony and what had happened between them, everyone else pretended like he didn't exist these days. It was a weird situation to be in.

Once some much needed catching up had been done, Maxxie set off into the kitchen to fetch Michelle a glass of white wine and she followed him without hesitation, leaning back against the island as he uncorked the bottle.

'I spoke to Tony last night,' she said tentatively, her gaze firmly fixed to her nails as she picked at the pink polish. 'We went out for a drink.'

This surprised him and Maxxie had to get a better grip on the bottle in his hands before he replied. 'That's nice.' He didn't offer anything more and turned his attention to pouring a large glass for her, sliding it across the surface so that it was within her reach.

Michelle sighed, in frustration, her eyes narrowing as she ignored the wine. 'Why do you have to be so stubborn?' she questioned.

It was Maxxie's turn to sigh then and he blew his cheeks out in annoyance before responding again. 'Fine,' he muttered. 'How's he going on?'

'Better.'

That one word held a lot of significance and they shared a brief look.

'You should go and visit him, you know, go home for a couple of days.'

It wasn't a suggestion, it was a request.

There had been an incident involving a teenage girl drunk driving and smashing into the back of Tony's car six months ago, or so Maxxie had heard on the grapevine anyway. For a few weeks there, things hadn't looked too good for his old friend.

He stared at Michelle in disbelief before deciding he could do with a glass of wine himself and poured one, sloshing the clear liquid all over the counter in the process. He cursed and then dropped his head forwards in defeat, raking his free hand up into his hair.

'I'm not stupid, Max,' said Michelle hesitantly, finally picking up her glass and taking a sip from it, her gaze now drawn to her feet. 'Tony's probably the biggest wanker I've ever met, aside from my dad perhaps, but at least he's trying.' She laughed lightly. 'He's grown up, believe it or not.'

'I'll believe it when I see it,' Maxxie replied hotly.

Michelle was about to respond but they were forced to end their conversation there as the doorbell rang. Several minutes later the house fell into chaos once more. In addition to numerous people from his dancing company, Chris and Jal had shown up as well, bringing along more alcohol and even more presents.

Luke woke up five minutes later, disturbed by all the noise downstairs and by the time midnight rolled around Maxxie found himself sprawled out in front of the fire playing army with Rupert, Rob, Chris and Luke. They may have gotten a little carried away, the living room now resembled a bunker and the girls were getting pummelled with cushions at regular intervals, Chris and Luke being responsible for most of the pummelling.

After standing it for ten minutes, Emma had decided to take advantage of the bed Luke abandoned earlier and tiptoed upstairs out of the way, sneaking an open bottle of wine up with her.

Michelle and Jal on the other hand were giving as good as they got, picking up cushions from the floor and hurling them back just as quick. It could have been worse though; Michelle was wearing a very vicious looking pair of heels and Maxxie thanked the Lord for small miracles when she slipped them off in favour of running around barefoot instead.

It may have been childish, but as far as things went, it was fun and this birthday had been one of the best he'd had in a long while.

Now all he needed to do was forget about Tony again and resist the urge to do what Michelle had said. He did owe a visit to his dad though; the temptation was most certainly there.


	2. Coming Home for Christmas

**Coming Home for Christmas**

It was the last place Maxxie had expected to be this Christmas. Yet, there he was, leaning over the railings of the harbour, staring down at the water as a joint burnt away between his fingertips. He blinked and then brought it to his lips, taking a long drag, drowning in the lost sensations. He hadn't done this for a very long time.

Annoyingly, Rupert had thought the idea to pay a visit to his dad was a brilliant one, he was working over Christmas after all and Maxxie would have been alone in the house most of the time. He could only pester Emma and Rob for so long. Maxxie hated him for being so encouraging.

Sighing as he thought about Rupert, his gaze moved over to the row of bars opposite and Maxxie had a sudden urge to go drinking again. Cocking his head, he leant in closer to his companion and then passed the joint over swiftly. 'Sure I can't tempt you to another one?' he asked hopefully.

There was a dry laugh and for a moment Maxxie found himself swallowed up by smoke, his eyes stinging as he waited for it to clear.

'That depends; do you still want to have everything attached in the morning?' came the retort, deadly serious in its delivery.

Maxxie stared, bit his lip and refrained from commenting.

Silence followed for a minute or so and then Chris burst out laughing, shoving at his arm playfully as he took another drag from the rollup burning away in his hand. 'Jesus Maxxie, you're so fucking gullible,' he chortled. 'This is Jal we're talking about here, like she cares anymore. Besides, she's easy enough to get around.' He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at his latter comment.

'Fuck off!' Maxxie snorted. 'I do _not_ need to know.'

More laughter and then Chris dropped the end of the joint into the water, watching for a moment as it created ripples on the calm surface.

'She keeps talking about kids.' This time he really _was_ serious. 'I mean, shit, can you imagine a couple of mini me's running around the place?'

'Doesn't bear thinking about,' muttered Maxxie, folding his arms across the railings.

'Exactly.'

Silence again.

'So, you and him, do you think you'll-'

Maxxie looked over pointedly and Chris cut himself off quickly.

The question was answered regardless.

'No, we won't,' Maxxie replied softly. 'Not now. Not ever. He doesn't want any of that stuff. Now shut the fuck up, you're the last person I want to have this conversation with.'

They both returned their attention back to smoking pretty sharpish after that and an hour later Chris was unlocking the door to the flat he shared with Jal, stumbling inside. Maxxie had been given the couch and the place Jal currently inhabited, curled up in one of Chris's t-shirts and a baggy pair of PJ bottoms, for the duration of his stay.

As they stepped into the living room, she glanced up fleetingly, her dark eyes void of emotion, TV remote clutched tightly in her right hand. 'How was your night?' she questioned, her gaze moving back to the colours flickering across the screen.

Chris shrugged. 'All right,' he answered, tossing his jacket down onto an empty chair and heading straight for the bedroom.

For a moment, Maxxie stood there motionless, not really knowing what to do with himself, but then Jal switched the TV off and got to her feet, stifling a small yawn with the back of her hand. 'Night, Maxxie,' she said with an awkward smile, following after Chris, and then five seconds later he found himself alone.

He sighed, pulling layers of clothing off slowly as he walked over to the spot she'd abandoned and then flopped down onto the couch, kicking his shoes under the table and beginning to look around a little.

Their flat was nothing to write home about. Small, cramped and dated, it wasn't somewhere you'd choose to spend an awful lot of time in on first looks. Yet, at the same time, it was a place you didn't want to leave. Warm, welcoming and homely, you knew a lot of love had gone into making it so. Jal would be responsible for that of course.

Maxxie smiled, grabbing a cushion and punching it into shape before laying his head down and watching the lights flicker on the Christmas tree, chasing one another across the branches. It didn't take long until the motions sent him spiralling into a deep sleep.

He awoke late the next morning to the sound of Jal talking to someone on her mobile phone, and moved to prop himself up on his elbow and peer over the top of the couch. She was sat at the kitchen table, a large mug in front of her and a tube of mascara and a compact mirror clutched in her free hand. Upon spotting him, she gave a half-hearted wave and then rolled her eyes as she indicated the phone. Maxxie laughed softly and then got up from his comfy spot to get his day started.

Once he was showered and dressed in some clean clothes, Maxxie joined her in the kitchen, fixing himself some toast and collapsing into one of the chairs. The table was overflowing with paperwork, half written Christmas cards and coffee cups, Jal's make-up scattered over numerous important looking documents.

When Jal finally finished her phone call, she snapped the phone shut and reached for coffee with a sigh. 'I'm surrounded by fucking idiots,' she growled. 'I take one morning off, three _fucking_ hours and they can't even manage that on their own.' Another sigh and then she glanced at him. 'Going to visit your dad today?' she asked.

Maxxie nodded, finishing off a mouthful of toast before he answered. 'Tonight, yeah,' he replied. 'I'm meeting Chelle for lunch.'

Of course, Jal knew the reason he was really in Bristol, but she knew better than to mention it. Plus, she never really had grown out of her aversion to Tony. Loathing him came second nature to her; too much time spent hating him for Michelle's benefit when they'd been in college.

Their conversation didn't last much longer and by the time he finished his breakfast, she was racing off to save the day, her mobile phone pressed to her ear once more.

Maxxie spent the rest of his morning tidying up the kitchen for Jal before finally racing out of the flat himself at midday. He met Michelle at one of the bars on the harbour, slumped down into a large squishy armchair and indulged in a huge bowl of curly fries and mayonnaise while she told him about her last year in France. Alexis was, of course, the main topic of conversation, with his devilish good looks and glowing personality.

It didn't take long for Maxxie to grow bored of that particular topic of conversation and he changed the subject abruptly, opting to talk about the friends he hadn't managed to see that year. She humoured him for a little while but soon steered his thoughts towards Rupert and asked question after question.

'Are you happy, Max?'

The question came from nowhere and he choked on the forkful he'd just put into his mouth, reaching for his drink and downing half of the glass before even contemplating a reply.

'Of course I am,' he supplied, lowering his eyes.

Maxxie stabbed viciously at a stray fry sitting in the bottom of his bowl, shoving it into his mouth and Michelle glared at him.

'Don't lie to me,' she murmured, her own hands curling around the mug set in front of her. 'Something's wrong, you wouldn't be here if there was nothing wrong.' She feigned sincerity and he found himself getting annoyed with her. 'Is everything OK with you and Rupert?'

Sighing in agitation, he threw his fork down and then folded his arms across the table in front of him, looking at her head on, deciding to broach the subject. 'Why do you even care, Michelle? You're the one who was so desperate for me to come and see Tony; surely that's all that matters to you, making sure _he's_ happy.'

Michelle looked vaguely guilty as she whispered, 'That isn't true, Max. That isn't true at all.'

'I love him _so_ much…' His words were barely heard as a group of people sat down at the table beside theirs. 'He means the fucking world to me.'

Opposite him, she stayed quiet, biting apprehensively on her lower lip and regarding him with sympathy.

'But I think he just puts up with me now…' Maxxie paused and knotted his hands into his hair, dropping his head down in defeat. 'I've not been the easiest person to live with since my accident and it's starting to wear on him. At least, that's how it feels to me anyway.'

'Rupert's hardly going to give up on you 'cause you've had a tough couple of months,' she responded, pushing her mug aside and reaching a hand across the table to take hold of his. 'You're worrying about nothing.'

'What if he's getting bored?' he questioned, glancing up a moment.

Michelle shook her head and then laughed very gently, simply answering, 'No one could ever get bored of you.'

Perhaps not, but he couldn't help the niggling feeling that all was not well in paradise anymore and he had no idea whatsoever on how to remedy it.

The evening spent at his dads, was as expected; quiet and awkward. They didn't talk much these days, so chose to spend the time watching TV instead, some Christmas special they showed every year. Maxxie sank down into his seat; arms folded across his chest, staring blankly at the screen as a troop of line dancer's heeled and toed their way across it.

Unsurprisingly, his dad dropped to sleep by eight and Maxxie decided to spend his last couple of hours there in his bedroom, looking through drawers and old photograph albums. He frowned a little; tugging open the final drawer, the one at the bottom of his wardrobe that always got stuck and ended up spilling its contents all over the floor whenever he managed it.

Today was no exception.

He huffed slightly, sitting back on his heels and then began to sort through the contents; a packet of chewing gum, several newspaper clippings, an old copy of Attitude magazine (dated July 2008) and two DVD cases – one empty, one not. Immediately, he took the DVD from its case, moving across the room to pop it into the player. It was a home made one; the scrawl across the front could just about be identified as Sid's.

_New Year 2009._

Maxxie stared at the control anxiously before finally hitting play a minute later. He moved to grab a pillow off the bed and then leant back against the leg, pulling his knees up to his chest as Sid's amateur video began to play. It had been the last year they'd all spent together. He'd been nineteen and, unfortunately for him, madly in love with the one guy who would never love him back.

The familiar and somewhat haunting laugh sounded in the background of the tape as Chris took hold of the camera; more interested in filming Jal as she searched for something that had fallen down the back of the couch than in what Sid had been saying. Anwar was perched on the arm of the chair nearest Jal, pointing and raising his eyebrows suggestively as she wriggled about.

The only one missing had been Michelle. She'd chosen to stay at University that year with her new boyfriend.

Pressing his lips together in a tight line, Maxxie finally caught a glimpse of the sight he'd been dreading; himself and Tony curled around each other in one of the armchairs. His hands were buried in Tony's dark hair, stroking lightly as the older boy sat talking animatedly to Cassie. She seemed unperturbed by Maxxie's one-sided behaviour.

He sighed, turning away from the screen, merely listening as Tony began to speak to the camera instead. His words flowed like silk, syllables following each other like they were meant to be that way and then, more tenderly, 'Leave off, Max… not in public.'

Maxxie cautiously looked back at the TV, faltering, and then leant forwards to turn it off, jumping back to his feet before he changed his mind. He checked his watch briefly and then after noting the time, made a beeline for the door, slipping out before his dad stirred in time for the _Ten O'Clock News_.

Fifteen minutes later he was following a middle-aged couple into an apartment building, his heart thundering in his chest. He darted into the lift after them, leaning back against the mirrored wall as the doors closed with a hallow sounding clunk. Letting a breath go, he closed his eyes to the world around him and ignored the look he received from the lady stood beside him.

The hallways upstairs were much the same as the lobby downstairs; dark wooden floors and cream and red wallpaper that looked as though it belonged in a 1950's film and should have been decorating the walls of a hotel somewhere in Manhattan.

Maxxie followed the grain of the wide floorboards, his eyes flitting occasionally to the brass numbers nailed upon each door.

It didn't take as long as he thought it would to find number 12 and he came to a stop in front of the mahogany panelled door two minutes later, his hands trembling slightly. He swallowed hard, pushing aside the desire to turn on his heel and leave, knocking instead and silently praying that someone would answer before he bottled it.

There was a brief kerfuffle behind the door and then it swung open, Tony standing there as bold as brass, his usually bright eyes hidden behind a mass of dark, ruffled hair.

He didn't appear surprised to find Maxxie stood there and flashed a grin a moment later, commenting, 'Chelle said you might stop by. I didn't think it'd be quite this late, but what the hell.'

Seconds later Maxxie found himself stood in the middle of Tony's apartment, Tony wandering off to fix drinks immediately. He gave himself a moment to take in his surroundings; one large room with an equally large corner couch in it and a massive flat screen TV set just in front of the window. Curled up on the mat sat Effy and abandoned on the glass coffee table; the remains of a Chinese takeaway and a half finished bottle of wine.

By the time Tony reappeared, clutching a second bottle in his hand and another glass, Maxxie was sinking down onto the couch and shrugging off his jacket.

Surprisingly, there _was_ a Christmas tree in the room, placed to the left of the television set and strewn with white fairly lights and silver baubles. One solitary present sat beneath the branches, a small box wrapped in blue paper with a piece of ribbon tied in a neat bow around it.

'From Ef,' Tony supplied as he sat down, passing a freshly poured glass of red wine across. 'She always gets me something.'

His sister didn't move at the mention of her name but continued to channel surf on his impressive TV, pausing momentarily as _The Nightmare Before Christmas_ flickered onto the screen. Her mouth curled up into the beginnings of a smile before the picture changed again to be replaced by someone screaming on _EastEnders_. She looked so small and childlike sat there, dressed in one of Tony's oversized jumpers and a pair of tight fitting jeans, her limbs tangled together.

Maxxie blinked and looked away from her, his focus drawn instead to Tony as he laid an arm across the back of the couch, stifling a yawn. 'Christmas Eve and you're spending it with me, anyone would think you cared,' he commented, emitting a soft laugh.

'Yeah, you wish.' The venom in Maxxie's voice wasn't quite as real as he wanted it to be. 'I have better places to be.'

He didn't know why he'd said it; it was hardly true and Tony caught on right away.

'Why aren't you there then?' he asked, tilting his head, a smirk teetering on his lips.

Sighing, Maxxie downed the glass he had clutched in his hand, whispering, 'Because I'm an idiot maybe.'

An hour passed before anyone said anything more and quite unexpectedly, it was Effy who first made her thoughts known. She rose from her position on the floor, stretching up toward the ceiling, twirling her mass of dark hair around her fingers and then looking at them both sat there motionless. She laughed; a very short and sharp sound that made Maxxie jump.

'You can fuck now if you want,' she said simply.

Her feline features contorted into a smile and then she shrugged her slim shoulders, disappearing into the bathroom a second later. Maxxie caught a glimpse of her as she stripped Tony's jumper off, exposing her naked back to them before the door abruptly slammed shut.

'She-' he started, but words failed him and he reached out blindly for the wine bottle again, not bothering to pour a glass.

Tony chuckled, amused and impassive, and merely commented, 'Fucking crazy.' He tapped his nails against his own wineglass. 'Knows what she's talking about though, does our Effy. She always has.'

Maxxie stared, nonplussed, and then placed the bottle down on the floor. 'Kinda wished she didn't,' he said. 'Don't you?'

A grin was his only response.


	3. Starting Over

**Starting Over**

The dreams Maxxie had that night were a far cry from sugarplum fairies and candy canes. In fact, there wasn't all that much time for sleeping, and when he finally did manage to lay his head down; he snuggled against Tony, soaking up his warmth, mind not daring to stray from what had just happened.

He dozed for several hours before he realised that his companion hadn't caught even one wink of sleep and instead, had sat up the entire night, simply watching _him_ sleep instead.

Sighing into the pillows, Maxxie instinctively edged closer to Tony upon waking, nuzzling into the crook of his neck and searching for his hand. Surprisingly, the dark-haired man beside him obliged and sleep soon washed over both of them once again.

In Maxxie's opinion, this was quite possibly the best way to spend Christmas Day, not exactly expected, but perfect all the same.

It was nearing 7am when he stirred again; the sound of children squealing excitedly upstairs had disturbed him. A herd of elephants jumping around and banging across the floorboards did that to a person. Immediately he moved to rest his chin on Tony's chest, peering up at him through a mess of matted, blonde hair.

'Tony?' he murmured into the silence.

Disappointingly a grunt was his only response and Tony turned his head away, bringing a hand up to cover his face and hide it from view.

Maxxie frowned and then crawled further up the bed so that they were face-to-face; making sure that Tony couldn't avoid his gaze when he spoke again. 'Does this mean you missed me, then?' he queried, an eyebrow arching in curiosity and a smirk playing on his lips.

Silence followed for another minute or so, tense yet comfortable, and then came the muffled reply, 'I don't know, I haven't decided yet.'

Pressing his lips together tightly, Maxxie turned his gaze away, instead watching his own hand as he tiptoed his fingers slowly across Tony's chest. He laid his head back down onto the pillow, fingertips leading a trail downwards, tracing the lightly defined muscles of Tony's stomach, gradually moving lower and lower and-

'Yes, all right, I fucking missed you!'

Grinning disdainfully, Maxxie continued the actions he'd put a stop to when Tony had interrupted him, speaking leisurely as he did so, 'How much?'

There was a very brief silence as Tony relaxed against the mattress and then as Maxxie's hand found its desired destination, the room became anything but silent. He couldn't help but laugh softly to himself as he kept his eyes on his companions face, watching his reactions to the practised movements of his hand.

It took mere seconds for Tony to tire of having no control and his hand tangled into Maxxie's hair, pulling his face to his and kissing him hungrily. No hesitation went into returning the kiss and Maxxie soon found himself moaning enthusiastically, giving as good as he got, his earlier activities forgotten.

Naturally, this didn't go unnoticed by Tony and he soon mumbled, 'I never said you could stop.'

Typical Tony, and Maxxie didn't really want to obey, but he couldn't help himself, his fingers itching to touch, lips desperate to taste, to know that this _was_ actually real.

Although, things never did go exactly how Tony planned them to and just as he cried out – probably louder than intended – the shadow of his little sister burst through the bedroom door, holding a jingling mobile phone out in front of her. All earlier plans were forgotten as Tony's moan transformed into an enraged shout of her name.

She held her hand out further, sapphire eyes anxious, clearly wanting to be rid of the tiny flip phone.

It took Maxxie several more rings to realise the article in her hand was actually his and he quickly moved to sit up, holding his hands out as she tossed it across the room. He caught it easily, staring down at the caller ID blankly before connecting the call and pressing the handset to his ear.

'Rob…?'

'Fucks sake Maxxie, I've called four times, what the _hell_ are you doing?' came Rob's distinct cockney accent.

He chose not to answer that question, his eyes on Effy who was still stood in the doorway and it was then he noticed her very obvious state of undress. She didn't appear bothered by it, leaning against the doorframe; her gaze fixed firmly upon them both lying there in bed. It was unnerving all in honesty. Did she always wander around Tony's flat like that?

Sighing in frustration, Maxxie forced himself to ignore it. 'Is everything OK?' he queried, speaking softly into the phone.

'No, everything is _not_ OK,' said Rob, sounding agitated. 'Emma's gone into labour and you're supposed to be here and you're fucking well not.'

He blinked. His best friend was having a baby and was too busy shagging his ex-boyfriend, well, ex-fuck buddy, to even answer his phone. He couldn't help the feeling of disgust settling over him. It only heightened as he felt Tony sit up behind him and begin to rub his shoulders.

'Rob, I'm in Bristol, it's Christmas Day, I can't get there,' he explained, feeling gradually worse with each word. 'There's no way.'

'Listen, I know all that, but if you don't get here I'm afraid there's going to be a murder and I don't mean…' his words trailed off and for a moment Maxxie could hear him talking to someone quietly in the background. He couldn't quite make out what was being said, but pressed the phone harder to his ear and tried anyway.

A minute passed before anyone spoke again and this time he recognised the voice as Emma's immediately and it was surprisingly calm considering the circumstances. 'Max?' she started. 'I need you; you have to get here… _now_!' He swallowed, guilt consuming him rather quickly. 'If you don't get here, Rob may end up dead, so I advise it.'

The line went dead and it took Maxxie a second to realise he was biting down so hard on his lip that he'd actually broken the skin beneath. He licked the spot with a small sigh, feeling the bitter taste of iron in his mouth and then tossed the phone aside, muttering a string of obscenities under his breath. Finally shrugging Tony's hands off his shoulders, he raked a hand uneasily into his hair and looked back at him.

'Fuck,' he managed eventually. 'I gotta go home.'

Moving to the edge of the bed, he was about to throw the covers aside when he realised Effy was still stood motionless, almost statue like, in the doorway of the room. He didn't really feel much like exposing himself to those watchful eyes of hers, so stopped mid action, a breath catching in his throat.

Tony was the one to get her to leave, simply shooting her a pointed look and saying, 'Ef, get out!'

Once the door had slammed closed and Maxxie leapt up from the bed, beginning to throw his clothes back on, Tony cleared his throat, making his presence known once again. 'So, what's going on then?' he asked, genuinely curious.

Maxxie paused midway through doing his jeans up and looked towards Tony, his hands falling limply at his sides. He'd really gone and screwed things up this time, and if Emma ever found out where he was, Rob wouldn't be the only one lined up for the executioners block later today. Fuck, he really had made a mess of things.

'Emma's having the baby and I promised I'd be there for her,' he explained half-heartedly, turning his attention away from Tony and back to buttoning his fly.

Tony stared blankly for a moment and then, 'Why? Is it yours?' he asked, his eyes inquisitive.

'No it's not fucking mine, you twat!' Maxxie shot back, picking up his hoodie from the foot of the bed and yanking it over his head. 'Rupert doesn't want kids; I'm hardly going to go doing it behind his back, am I?'

'You might.' Tony shrugged, carefree, sliding from beneath the duvet and wandering to the bathroom. 'I want kids,' he added, casually bigging himself up, and then pulled the door closed behind him.

Maxxie tripped over his own feet, falling flat on his face as the comment hit home. He growled to himself in annoyance and then threw the socks he'd been trying to put on across the room. He realised it was immature immediately, but didn't have the strength in him to care. Tony was doing this on purpose, he was sure of it; acting all perfect just to spite him.

By the time Tony stepped out of the bathroom, thankfully now wearing a towel around his waist, he was clutching a toothbrush in his hand.

'Thought you could use this, because no offence Max, but you look like shit,' he said, smirking and clearly enjoying the moment.

Maxxie scowled and then leapt to his feet, snatching the toothbrush from Tony's outstretched hand and stomping his way into the bathroom to clean himself up. His maturity levels were now on par with a fifteen-year-old, any moment now he would throw the door open and scream, 'I hate you!' at the top of his voice. Well, perhaps not. So he had the maturity levels of a nineteen-year-old then.

By the time he considered himself presentable enough to face the world and stepped out into the living room, he found a fully clothed Tony stood near the front door, his jacket clutched in one hand and a set of car keys in the other.

'Ready?' he asked with a magnificent grin.

Maxxie faltered in the alcove that led to the bedroom and stopped walking right then, confusion flooding his features. 'What are you doing?' he shot back.

Tony raised an eyebrow in response, and then said, 'I'm driving you there, what the fuck do you think I'm doing?'

Shaking his head, he continued on into the main room and then snatched his jacket from Tony, tugging it on with a small sigh. 'You can't drive me. How's that going to look if you turn up at the hospital?' he murmured. 'Emma'll have a fit.'

'Your friend Emma will be too drugged up to know shit, don't worry about it.' Tony shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and then looked over to the couch where Effy was sat munching her way through a bowl of Coco Pops. 'Don't wreck the place while we're gone,' he told her firmly.

Maxxie risked a weak smile in her direction and she simply smirked at him before popping another spoonful of cereal into her mouth.

For the next couple of hours he found himself incapable of speech and instead tuned the radio in Tony's car to a station he found playing Christmas songs, choosing to sing along to _Last Christmas_ in full voice, while Tony just sat and laughed at him. There was something annoyingly familiar about it all and Maxxie couldn't shift the sense of déjà vu lurking in the back of his mind.

They reached the hospital just under two hours later and Maxxie leapt out of the car with urgency and practically went flying across the car park when Tony grabbed hold of his sleeve to stop him. He span back ready to start shouting but instead found himself silenced as Tony's lips met his in a tender kiss. 'I'm not going anywhere,' he whispered, actions so unlike him.

Maxxie didn't know what to do with himself, Tony's little display had thrown him completely, and for a minute, he simply stared, fixed to the spot by his pure stupidity.

'Didn't you have somewhere to be?'

Blinking slowly, Maxxie nodded and then threaded his fingers through Tony's, pulling him into the hospital with him.

It didn't take long to track down Emma, they could hear her screaming from the other side of the hospital and upon reaching maternity ward realise what she was screaming wasn't so polite. They found Rob sat in the waiting room, head in his hands and looking a whiter shade of pale. One of the nurses was hovering not far from him, clutching a cup of water in her hand anxiously.

'You didn't throw up again did you, Rob?' asked Maxxie playfully.

'Shut up, don't know what you mean,' was the garbled reply and the nurse leapt forward, hands outstretched as if preparing herself for the worst.

There had been an incident when Emma had Luke in which Rob had spent the majority of the birth with his head stuck down the toilet. He'd finally emerged an hour after she'd had the baby, appearing considerably green around the gills and drenched in sweat. Emma however, had looked radiant, all rosy cheeks and mesmerising smiles.

Loosing Tony's hand, Maxxie walked over to join his friend, sitting down beside him and taking the water from the nurse with a timid smile. He offered it to Rob and then cautiously wrapped an arm around him; rubbing his back in what he hoped was a comforting manner.

'How's she doing?' he asked after a moment or two, his eyes on Tony as he paced back and forth in front of the windows.

Rob mumbled something incoherent and then finally said, 'She's already threatened to cut off certain parts of my anatomy, so I'd say pretty well on the whole, thanks.'

Maxxie laughed shortly only to be cut off by a scream that brought them all back to their senses and Rob quickly glanced back over his shoulder, suddenly alarmed, his eyes wide as saucers.

'Better get back in there, mate,' Tony commented from his spot, his expression oddly curious.

'Oh God, I can't…'

They both turned back to Rob and moment later he was up and out of his seat, racing to the toilets on the other side of the waiting room instead of the obvious place. Not quite the reaction anyone expected of the father to be.

Tony perked an eyebrow, his hands now shoved into his back pockets and a whimsical smile planted firmly in place. 'Strong stomach, that one,' he said.

Maxxie ignored him, attention elsewhere, and then without warning got to his feet, declaring, 'I'm going in.'

Well, Emma needed someone, didn't she?

-

'She's so tiny… and she has such little fingers and toes, it's like… God, Tony, you should see her!' He was well aware he was gushing and in return Tony was looking at him like he'd grown a second head. 'She's got these massive brown eyes and… and…' he trailed off, sighing happily, as he felt Tony's fingers tangle into his hair.

'You're so cute,' said Tony, the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 'I don't know how he can deny you anything.'

It was the biggest turnaround Maxxie had ever witnessed, but he couldn't help love where it was heading. Why couldn't Tony have behaved this way a few years ago, when he had really needed him to? All that fucking around had just created a big mess that would now need sorting out and it wouldn't be easy for anyone.

'Where is he anyway? Your oh so perfect boyfriend?'

Maxxie moved his gaze over to Tony, frowning at his acidic words. 'Rob said they couldn't get hold of him,' he answered. 'So I've no idea. He's never been the most reliable of people, not recently anyway at least.'

Nodding, Tony tightened the grip he had on Maxxie's hair and then brought their faces closer together. 'Oh well, the longer he's not around, the longer I get you all to myself for,' he said, his eyes twinkling mischievously. 'Coming back to mine tonight? You were visiting your family in Bristol after all, wouldn't want to cut it short, that wouldn't be fair to them.'

'You're hardly family, Tone,' he scoffed, holding back a dry laugh.

'No, I'm not,' Tony replied thoughtfully, his words gentle. 'But, who knows, maybe someday I could be… if that's OK with you that is.'

Rendered temporarily speechless, Maxxie brought his gaze to Tony's and then pressed their lips together in a tentative kiss, murmuring, 'Fine by me.'

Another grin flickered across Tony's face, and then he got to his feet, brushing down his trouser legs before finally holding his hand out towards Maxxie, who accepted it graciously. 'Have they thought of any names for her yet?' he questioned, starting back into the hospital. 'Personally, I like Isis…'


End file.
